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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=499036" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Grasse-hopper</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">To My Noble Friend, Mr Charles Cotton</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O thou that swing'st upon the waving ear<br>Of some well-filled oaten beard,<br>Drunk ev'ry night with a delicious tear<br>Dropped thee from heav'n, where now th' art reared,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The joys of earth and air are thine entire,<br>That with thy feet and wings dost hop and fly;<br>And, when the poppy works, thou dost retire<br>To thy carved acorn-bed to lie.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Up with the day, the sun thou welcom'st then,<br>Sport'st in the gilt plats of his beams,<br>And all these merry days mak'st merry men,<br>Thyself, and melancholy streams.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But ah the sickle! -golden ears are cropped;<br>Ceres and Bacchus bid good-night;<br>Sharp frosty fingers all your flow'rs have topped,<br>And what schythes spared, winds shave off quite.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Poor verdant fool! and now green ice! -thy joys,<br>Large and as lasting as thy perch of grass,<br>Bid us lay in 'gainst winter rain, and poise<br>Their floods with an o'erflowing glass.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou best of men and friends! we will create<br>A genuine summer in each other's breast;<br>And spite of this cold time and frozen fate,<br>Thaw us a warm seat to our rest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our sacred hearths shall burn eternally<br>As vestal flames; the North-wind, he<br>Shall strike his frost-stretched wings, dissolve, and fly<br>This Etna in epitome.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dropping December shall come weeping in,<br>Bewail th' usurping of his reign;<br>But when in show'rs of old Greek we begin,<br>Shall cry he hath his crown again!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Night as clear Hesper shall our tapers whip<br>From the light casements where we play,<br>And the dark hag from her black mantle strip,<br>And stick there everlasting day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus richer than untempted kings are we,<br>That asking nothing, nothing need:<br>Though lord of all that seas embrace, yet he<br>That wants himself is poor indeed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Richard+Lovelace">Richard Lovelace</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=499036" data-title="The Grasse-hopper de Richard Lovelace" data-description="To My Noble Friend, Mr Charles Cotton

O thou that swing'st upon the waving ear
Of some well-filled oaten beard,
Drunk ev'ry night with a delicious tear
Dropped thee from heav'n, where now th' art reared,

The joys of earth and air are thine entir..."></div>
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